


priorities

by writevale



Series: and here you are making gold out of it [5]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Canon Asexual Character, Discussions of sex, Fluff, M/M, Sex-positive ace, Tea, Trans Male Character, cottage boyfriends kiss and tease each other, no beta we die like men, post-159, two blushing messes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-05
Updated: 2020-03-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:33:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23020258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writevale/pseuds/writevale
Summary: Jon is feeling very pleased with himself. Martin can't cope.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Series: and here you are making gold out of it [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1657546
Comments: 39
Kudos: 426





	priorities

The cold kiss of the flagstones seeps through the thick woollen knit of Martin's socks as he pads his way through the pools of golden morning light on the floor and flicks on the kettle with a yawn. He runs a hand through his hair as his other reaches into the cupboard to pluck out two of Daisy's questionably quaint teacups and set them on the counter. His action makes the thick coppery tufts stick out at odd angles but he smooths his hair down quickly as he hears the approaching slap of bare Archivist feet approach the open door.

A smile touches his lips even as Jon bypasses the door to the kitchen and slips into the bathroom instead. He's whistling, a staccato trill of some old rock song that was never meant to be in a major key. Martin's smile breaks out into a toothy grin. He knows the feeling. Last night- _Well, last night had been_ \- He rubs his mouth but his smile stays in place.

For all the stilted almost-awkwardness of their first discussion about the potential for a sexual element to their relationship, the pair of them really made quite the team. Martin gazes out across the sun-dappled hills through the window, eyes glassy with the memory of the small furrow between Jon's eyebrows as he crooked his fingers inside Martin, searching for the right spot. And the way he wet his lips in response to Martin’s gasp when he found it.

The rumble of the kettle breaks his reverie and he fills the waiting cups with water. The sound of Jon's feet crescendos until the man's tanned, wiry arms wrap around Martin's middle. He chuckles, setting down the teaspoon with a clink and Jon's hands squeeze his sides in a non-verbal demand that he spin around to face him.  
'Morning!' Martin chirps, 'Sleep w-?' He is cut off with a muffled _mmph_ as Jon slips his long fingers into Martin's hair and leans upwards to kiss him firmly on the lips. Martin's eyes flutter closed and his subconscious provides him with the memory of how those lips had felt on his neck and _elsewhere_. How he had burned as he tasted himself on them.

He lets out a sound. Nothing more than a simple, satisfied hum. The kind that might accompany the first sip of a really excellent cup of tea, or in the few seconds of relief after removing his binder. It’s enough for Jon to pull away, the morning sunlight dancing in his eyes, mouth pulled up into a smirk. _He has no right to look so amused,_ Martin thinks as his ears start to burn, _and no right to look so attractive whilst doing so_. In a way, it was probably safer for everyone that the Archives had reduced Jon to a serious, scowling mess. His laugh, so rich without the bitter edge of sarcasm, bounces off the stone walls of the cottage and has Martin reaching back to grip onto the countertop for support.

'Hah.' Jon grins, 'Good morning.' He tips up onto the balls of his feet to press a much softer kiss to the smooth skin of Martin's cheek.  
He looks deep into Martin's eyes for just a second and then he's gone, headed towards the living room to turn on the radio. Martin watches him. The movement stirs the ratty hem of the t-shirt that, by all rights, should have been thrown away in the nineties and - _is he? surely not_ \- underneath it, Martin can see the swish of his skinny hips. _Shit, he actually is._

Jon is strutting.

  
Martin lifts his fingers to touch his kiss-warmed lips and try to stifle the laughter welling up in the back of his throat. His Archivist sashays like one of the macho guys in the old movies he used to play for his mum. Like he might be about to spin on his heel and wink over at Martin, something hot and vaguely derogatory on his tongue. His confident steps reek of someone who's just had excellent sex and wouldn't mind if the world knew about it. _Tim used to sway like that,_ Martin remembers, _when he wanted the office to know he'd got some._ On Jon? The thought of having, quite literally, a hand in making him feel so at ease in his own skin makes Martin's stomach do something outrageously gymnastic. But that doesn't disguise how ridiculous he looks, all puffed up and masculine.  
  
Jon whips around as a titter of laughter escapes between Martin's fingers. His hazel eyes narrow suspiciously. 'What?'  
'Oh, I can't be having this.' Martin delights at how adorable Jon looks with that little crease between his eyebrows.  
'This - what?'  
'You.' Martin grins, 'Snake-hips over there with the macho walk.' The warm almond-brown of Jon's skin hides his blush well but Martin has spent long enough watching him to know that he's embarrassed when his skin glows like _that_. Jon sniffs.  
'I don't know what you mean.'  
Martin grins, resistant to Jon's bluff. A part of him is still unsure how far he can and should push joking about Jon and sex, so he shrugs as he turns back to retrieve the teabags from where they had been stewing.  
'Just looks like someone had a good time, that's all.'

The sound Jon makes in response is somewhere between a cough and a squeak. When Martin glances over, green eyes lined with amused creases, Jon has snuck forwards, hovering at the point where the flagstones of the kitchen meets the dark floorboards of the living room. He doesn't seem to notice that he's rubbing his hands together. Jon tilts his chin up towards the ceiling, defiant in the face of his obvious anxiety.  
'Maybe, someone did.' He counters. Martin finds it ridiculously unfair that his own complexion tends towards something scarlet at the slightest provocation. He squeezes the teabag against the side of the cup and moves to catch the other in the same way.  
'Maybe someone else did as well.' He says, letting the words come out soft and sincere despite the nervous roiling in his own stomach.  
'Good.' Jon steps forwards. The relief in his smile takes years off him. Martin's heart races at the sight of it.  
'Good.' He's smiling in return. Blushing like an idiot. _Acting like a teenager_.

Jon extends a hand out to run it along the marble of the counter. They both watch its smooth passage. The air is suddenly quite thick in the otherwise draughty room. When Jon finally meets his eyes Martin feels it deep and low in his abdomen. He sucks in a breath.  
'We should do that again sometime.'  
'Yeah.' Martin mentally congratulates himself for keeping his voice steady across that one syllable. He finds the courage for two more. 'We should.'  
'Right. Good. Well.' Jon taps the countertop twice with his fingers. 'Whenever you're ready.'  
'Oh? _Oh!_ Now? Hah.' Martin babbles, 'You mean like, right now?'  
'Well, I mean - only if you - you know - if you wanted to? Of course if you didn't that's completely fine and I understand, perhaps the wrong time of day or, yes, it has been quite soon after the last one - I don't really - I'm not really used to-'  
'No! No, no!' Martin lifts a freckled hand. He looks at Jon, who's chewing on his bottom lip, knuckles white on the edge of the counter. Of course he wants whatever his boyfriend is offering. _It's just -_  
'It's just - tea first? We're on teabag rations, remember? And I just brewed this.' Jon's eyes sweep shut like he's gathering the will to live. Martin's stomach starts to sink but then lurches violently upwards as Jon begins to chuckle.  
'Fine. Tea first. Sex after.' He huffs without actually sounding annoyed. 'Good to know your priorities.'  
'I mean,' Martin grins at Jon, opening the fridge and reaching blindly for the milk, 'Tell me that doesn't sound like a perfect morning.'

**Author's Note:**

> tldr: jon gives martin an 11/10 sexual experience and it makes him feel like the king of the world. 
> 
> thanks so much for reading!!


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